


Small Talk

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Series: The Brood AU [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Superman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 05:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6690892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you talk about, when you meet up with the man who left you and his five kids without a word ten years ago?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Talk

**Author's Note:**

> This is a lot of talking. So. Sorry. :/ This is a couple days after Bruce called. Connor, Tim and Damian are home alone at the farm, technically, but Ma and Pa Kent are around somewhere. Alfred remained in Gotham during the ten years, and was one of (probably) two people who had any contact with Bruce during the time missing. He didn’t visit/or really super call the kids due to the same fear Bruce had. Bruce watches the video and stares at the photos literally all night, and doesn’t sleep at all.

“I just.” Dick sighed, and it sounded tinny over the line. “Clark. _Dad_.” Clark grinned. “I’m just _saying_ , one of us should be there.”

“ _All of us_ , should be there!” He heard Jason correct in the background.

“Maybe, maybe not.” Clark shrugged, pushing his glasses up his nose and looking down the street. “But I just think I should meet with him first. Figure out what’s going on. Make sure…make sure he’s even _fit_ to see all of you.”

Dick snorted. “We’re adults now, Clark. Even if he wasn’t _fit_ , we could take care of ourselves. Figure it out on our own.”

“You and Jay, sure. Cassie, Tim and Conner, _maybe_. But Damian and Jon?” Clark deemed the road safe, and began to jog across it. “You know how they are. Anything you five do, they want to too, and, at least for Damian, I don’t think this is something any of us should just. _Jump_ into.”

Dick didn’t answer, but Clark heard him sigh.

“This is a big deal, Dick. And, despite your confidence, I know _you_ know that.” Clark said gently, as he moved down the sidewalk. He stopped outside the coffee shop, knowing he probably shouldn’t be on the phone when he walked in. It was habit, when he glanced through the window, and he couldn’t help but freeze, when he saw that his date was already there. “Just…call your brothers? Damian’s practically been a nervous wreck since I got the call, and Tim’s starting to clam up like he does. Jon’s already tried to fly him and Cass back to Smallville twice.”

Dick chuckled lightly, but it was awkward. “Be sure you visit them before you leave Metro, okay?”

“Already on it. We’re all having dinner at seven at Henry’s.” Bruce hadn’t looked away from the wall, where he was staring at the artwork and plaques. “Then family video chat at nine or so, to talk this all out, okay?”

“Jay and I will clear our schedules.” Dick promised. “Call me if he gets to be a pain in the ass.”

“Dick-”

“Just because I haven’t seen or heard from him since I was _thirteen_ doesn’t mean I’ve _forgotten_ how he was.” Dick scolded lightly. “Just. Don’t worry about if he’s fit for just us kids, you know? Think about yourself here too.”

Clark snorted a laugh. “Love you too, kiddo. I’ll talk to you in a few hours.”

“Jay and I’ll be waiting.” Clark kept his smile as he hung up and held the phone in front of him, staring at his background for a moment. All seven kids, posed with a life-sized horse statue made of butter, at the Kansas State Fair the year prior. Dick, Jason, Kon and Jon making faces for the camera, Damian looking mortified, though still a little amused, Tim rolling his eyes, and Cassandra laughing so hard she was crying.

He inhaled slowly, nodded to himself, kissed his phone screen for good luck, then pocketed the device and ducked into the shop.

The first thing he noticed was Bruce’s scruff. More than scruff, really, it could have been a full-on beard to some. Not quite lumberjack level, but. Definitely not just a five-o’clock shadow.

The next thing was how tired he looked. Practically _miserable_. Stress lines and light scars crisscrossed down his face. So, Clark could scratch ‘spent the last ten years on an island drinking margaritas’ off his list of possibilities.

The third thing he noticed, was Bruce’s eyes. Still bright and piercing and the deepest blue he’d ever seen.

(Still the most _beautiful_ thing he’d ever seen.)

The fourth thing was the fact that they were now staring right at him.

He gulped, and felt himself smile on instinct – just a small one, and an obviously nervous one – before moving forward. Bruce watched him sway between the tables for a few minutes before awkwardly stumbling to his feet. He didn’t seem to know what to do then – _should I hug him? Should I_ kiss _him? Should I…_ \- and in the end just held out his hand with a mumbled:

“Clark.”

And Clark couldn’t admit that it made his knees just a little weak, to hear that man again. To see him again, in person, to _hold_ him, even if it was just his hand.

“Bruce.”

Bruce released his hand then, and looked nervously around. “Just, uh. Just you?”

“I know you’re disappointed about that.” Clark laughed, sitting at the table. “But I thought it was for the best, just for right now.”

“Oh, I.” Bruce plopped back down across from him. He placed his hands on the table, wrapped them around his coffee, stared down into its dark abyss as he mumbled, “I didn’t say I was disappointed.”

Clark felt himself grin again.

“How are they, though?” Bruce whispered, and he didn’t look up from his drink. “Are they okay?”

“They’re really…” Clark trailed off as the waitress came up to their table, and welcomed him to the little restaurant. Clark nodded to her, and placed a quick order of a cup of water and a banana smoothie. The girl nodded and bounced off, and when Clark looked back to Bruce, he found the other suddenly holding a photo. Torn at the edges, and even through the back, Clark could tell the colors of the image were faded. “They’re good, Bruce. All your kids are _good_.”

Bruce didn’t answer for a second. Just stared down at the photograph. And as piercing and bright at they were, those gorgeous eyes just looked so _tired_.

Without warning, Bruce’s lips twitched to the side in a smirk, and he dropped the photograph between them. It was an old one, that fact was confirmed. An old portrait of Bruce’s children, from way back when. When Damian was a toddler, Cassandra was too shy and Jason was in desperate need of braces. Posed and pampered, all five of them in matching gray outfits.

“I guess they aren’t this small anymore, huh?”

Clark picked up the photograph. Studied Tim’s sad eyes. Dick’s preteen acne. The way, even when trying to smile, Jason was trying even harder to look tough. How Tim and Cassandra seemed to always gravitate towards each other for comfort. The bond Dick and Damian seemed to always have.

Clark couldn’t help but let out a little laugh.

He bet none of his kids even remember getting this photo taken.

(He had to pause then, though. Because – not his kids. _The_ kids. _Bruce’s_ kids. Not _his_. Not really. Not anymore.)

“No. No they’re not.” Clark continued to chuckle, even as he took his own phone out. Hit the passcode and a few more buttons. Spun the phone around and gave Bruce full access to his library of photos. “They all still act like giant babies, though.”

Bruce scrolled slowly. Skipping the photos of coworkers, and of dogs and of Clark’s parents. Slowing on ones of the kids. He didn’t stop on a photo, though, not until he got to a group shot. Of Clark, from Father’s Day, surrounded by the brood.

 _All_ of the brood.

Bruce frowned, and picked the device up, held it close to his face. Clark bit his lip and looked away.

Because, if he was honest, beyond anything, beyond seeing Bruce again, beyond learning what truly happened – _This_ was what he was worried about.

And it was a minute of silence. Long enough for the waitress to come back with Clark’s order and ask them for anything else. Clark said no, and Bruce was too busy staring at the phone to respond.

But finally, Bruce whirled the phone back around, and had the image zoomed in, on two faces in particular.

“Who are these two?” Bruce asked, though Clark could hear the suspicion dripping on his tone. “Family friends?”

“No.” Clark muttered, keeping his stare on the picture, and not Bruce’s face. “They’re… _my_ sons.”

“ _Your_ sons?”

“Mhm.” Clark simply hummed. “The older one there is Conner. Kon for short. He’s…well, it’s complicated, but he’s Tim’s age. The smaller one there is Jon. He’s nine.”

“…And they’re yours.” Bruce repeated. Clark nodded as Bruce spun the phone back around to look at. “I…see.”

And Clark could tell that he didn’t.

“Mother?”

“Jon’s mother is Lois.”

“And Conner’s?” Bruce said, a little harshly. “Because _apparently_ it’s a different woman.”

Clark didn’t rise to Bruce’s bait. “Lex Luthor.”

Bruce’s eyes darted up from the phone.

“I told you. Connor is…complicated. And that’s not a story for the middle of a Metropolis diner.” Clark explained quietly, but instantly returned Bruce’s callousness with his own. “But what, you were really about to judge me for _maybe_ sleeping with two women, Mr. Playboy?”

Bruce frowned. Looked back down at the phone. “No, I…no.”

“…This is why I didn’t bring any of the kids along.” Clark sighed, twirling his smoothie with a straw. “Because I knew you’d look at _my_ kids and, for _some_ reason, _judge_ them.”

“I’m not _judging_ your kids, Clark.”

“They love _your_ kids to pieces.” Clark interjected quickly, before this could become an argument. “They all grew up together. I – Lois and me – we _raised_ them together. They’re brothers and sisters, all seven of them.”

“All seven…” Bruce hummed. And the screen must have gone dark, because suddenly Bruce put the phone down, on top of the older photo. “…So. You and Lois?”

“Nope.”

Bruce looked up. “…No?”

Clark gave him another grin, took a sip of his drink. “Okay, so maybe Connor isn’t the _only_ complicated thing in my life.” He paused, and pushed his drink away. “But, you know, this – us, meeting – this isn’t about the kids. This isn’t about Lois, or Lex, or even _me_.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “What’s this about, then?”

Clark tilted his head to the side. “You, ya big dummy.”

Bruce’s eyes widened, with legitimate surprise, and then his lips pursed in a pout – a hereditary trait, if its similarity to Damian’s was any indication – and a blush brushed his manly, bearded (lovely) cheeks.

“The kids are fine. The kids are _great_. I did what I promised. I took care of them until you got back.” And Clark chose not to mention that the amount of time it took Bruce to come back was a _lot_ longer than he’d told them. “But how are you? Are _you_ okay?” He hesitated. “Bruce…what the _hell happened?”_

Bruce’s pout diminished, though the blush remained. He looked sheepishly down into his coffee again, and slowly took a gulp.

Clark waited.

“You ever hear of the Court of Owls, Clark?”

“In passing.” Clark shrugged. “A fairytale, right?”

“More than that, apparently.” Bruce hummed, putting his cup back down. “They attacked me, that night. Chased me all across the city as Batman. I got away, eventually. Figured I could go home and lick my wounds until I figured out a plan of attack against them.”

“But?”

“But I got back and found Alfred almost dead in the cave.” And despite the time passed, Clark could see the memory still hurt Bruce. _Haunted_ him, completely. “The door to the manor was open and I was terrified of what might have happened to the children. The house was half ransacked, and I could hear _them_ moving around. But I was lucky. God, I was _so lucky_.”

“…The manor was too big.” Clark concluded. “They hadn’t made it to the kids’ rooms yet.”

“And I knew, at that point I knew. This was bigger than me. Bigger than Batman, or even the Wayne family.” He let out a little chuckle, and it was dark. But he looked up at Clark through his lashes anyway. “You’d have been proud of me, Clark. All those years you told me I put Batman too far above everything else. That there were more important things than that mask – and that night I agreed with you.”

Clark’s phone suddenly buzzed. A text, from Jason. Clark could see it. Knew Bruce could too.

 _“So?”_ It read. _“How’s it going???”_

“There was nothing else in my head but getting them safe.” Bruce whispered, reaching out, and placing his finger on the name. Not opening the text though, just holding the screen there, forcing it to remain lit. “I called Gordon about a house invasion, I called Leslie about Alfred. Then I woke the kids and got them to the first car I could. The Court’s Talons – their warriors – heard us the second I started the car, and chased us until we were out of Gotham limits. They even got as close as ripping off the back bumper.”

“…The kids never told me that happened.” Clark said. “Dick only ever said you woke them up in the middle of the night and told them to get in the car.”

“They were all too tired. When the car ran out of gas about midway through Pennsylvania, I just stole another one.” Bruce explained. “When we were somewhere in Indiana, Tim asked me if he was dreaming, all this stuff going on. I told him yes, and he drifted back off. I guess they all believed that to be the truth.”

“…Wow.” Was all Clark could say. “…When did you decide you were bringing them to _me?_ ”

“It was my first thought, honestly.” Bruce admitted, finally releasing the text. “But the plan of leaving them with you until I stopped the Court – _guaranteed_ their safety – didn’t solidify until Missouri somewhere, because.”

Bruce paused.

“Because I started doubting that my timing was right. That I’d _just so happened_ to get back to the house before the Talons found their bedrooms.”

“What, you thought the Court was going to… _take_ them?”

“I don’t know. Take them, kill them. Take some, kill the rest. When I was fighting them as Batman, they rambled on about eradicating the Wayne family. I thought they just meant _me_. I thought they only _knew_ about me. But then – and I dismissed it at the time, but – I heard one of them mention Haly’s Circus, and I…” Bruce ran his fingers through his hair. “I just don’t. Know.”

“So better safe than sorry.” Clark finished. “I get that. But all this time…?”

Bruce suddenly smiled. Tired, and almost old-looking, but still handsome. Still that man, the one Clark was falling head over heels for. The one he thought about, fantasized about, every day since he last saw him.

“Guess your deal with Lex Luthor isn’t the only thing not fit for conversation in a coffee shop.” The smile held, and Clark found himself returning it.

Like the good old days.

And he thought about it. He didn’t do it, but he _thought_ about reaching out. About holding those fingers, maybe lifting them, _kissing_ them. But that was a topic they were clearly both avoiding for now, and really. That was probably for the best.

Still, though, he said, “I missed you, Bruce.”

The smile softened, and those eyes lowered. “I missed you too, Clark.”

“Thank you. For agreeing to meet with me.” He wrapped his fingers around his shake instead, tried to avoid looking at Bruce’s hands at all costs. “I’m…sorry, I didn’t bring the kids along.”

Bruce snorted, but it was playful. “No, you’re not.” His laugh continued, as he leaned back in his chair. “This was to be a test from the get-go, right? To make sure I was…I don’t know, mentally okay? Not some old crazy guy who seemed like he just crawled out of the woods? I know how you think, Clark. I know how you _work_.” He let his laughed die off into a sigh. “And to be honest, I probably would have done the same.”

“I _know_ you would’ve.” Clark smirked. “Who do you think I learned it from?”

“I appreciate it.” And there was that smile again. “And really, Clark. I _am_ grateful, that you took taking care of my kids so seriously.”

“I can honestly say, it’s been my pleasure.” Clark murmured. “It’s probably not my place to say, but. I love them all to _death_ , Bruce.  Really, they’re like my own. They’re just like Conner and Jon to me.”

Bruce was still smiling when Clark looked up, but it was a little sadder now. He suddenly reached out, hit the button to light up Clark’s screen. Stared at the picture from the state fair, and that smile turned wistful. “…I’m glad about that, Clark. Really.”

Clark didn’t know if he believed that. But, much like so many other things right now, it seemed like that was a conversation for another day.

“Well, at any rate, you passed the tests.” Clark returned sheepishly. “So, I just gotta ask, you know, before we go forward. You sticking around?”

Bruce glanced up.

“I mean, you’re not just stopping through, are you? Checking in on your kids before you disappear into the night to fight these Owl things again?”

“No, I’m here for good.” Bruce promised. “The Owls have been dealt with. And even if a couple rogues from their organization pop up, I’m ready this time.”

“Well, if you need help with any potential rogues, give me a call, eh? I’ve been told I’m _invincible_ or something.” Clark grinned and Bruce rolled his eyes. “Where are you staying?”

“I’ll be staying at the manor. Alfred said he kept it up my absence.”

“ _Will_ be?” Clark asked. “You haven’t been home yet?”

Bruce shook his head. “Called you the minute I got off the plane. You said you wanted to meet up as soon as possible, so I’ve been staying in hotels until we were able to make a plan. I’m in the hotel just down the street here for right now.”

“Oh…oh, wow.” Clark stuttered. “Well, okay, um.” He stopped, barked a desperate laugh. “I mean, you don’t have to do that. If you want to stay in Metropolis while I talk to all the kids, I’m sure Lois would be happy to have you.”

Bruce just smiled softly. Awkwardly.

“Thanks, but no.” Bruce declined. “I’m good where I’m at. I think I…I think the alone time will be good for me, until you get it all figured out.”

“If you’re sure.” Bruce nodded. “Well. That’s that then, I suppose. I’ll talk to all of the kids, and we’ll figure something out, so you can see them all again, together. At the same time.”

“I’d like that. And I’d like to meet your two as well.” Bruce murmured, reaching out and turning on Clark’s lock screen one more time. “…Thank you, Clark.”

“Again, my pleasure.” Clark laughed, leaning to the side to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. As he did so, his phone buzzed again, and above Jason’s waiting text, came a message from Lois, asking if they could push up dinner, because Jon was getting restless, and threatening to come ambush his current appointment. And really, that would have been bad enough, but Clark couldn’t help but notice Bruce’s slight frown at it, too. “I…should probably go take care of that. Let me get your drink?”

“Clark, come on-”

Clark threw the ten on the table anyway, standing up while still digging in his wallet. “Go get that rest, okay? I’m sure once I tell the kids, if they had it their way, they’d want to see you tonight. So, just in case, go take a nap, alright? And here.” He pulled a tiny paper out of his billfold, picked up his phone and put the card down in its place. Another photograph, this one with Cassandra in the middle, surrounded on all sides by her six brothers. “Cassie’s birthday last year. To hold you over until you get to see the real things.”

Bruce found himself unable to speak, as he picked up the image.

“But I’ll keep you in the loop.” Clark continued. “Let you know of any plans or changes or issues with the kids.”

The other still didn’t say anything.

“…Bruce?” Clark whispered, and this time. He couldn’t hold back. This time, he reached out, and gently took hold of Bruce’s wrist. “…I’m so happy to see you again.”

Bruce glanced down at Clark’s hand for a moment, before using the other to cover it, and give Clark’s fingers a gentle squeeze.

And he didn’t look up, when he just as quietly said: “Me too, Clark. Me too.”

Clark smiled, despite knowing Bruce wouldn’t see it, ignored the flutter in his chest as he pulled his hand away and left the café.

~~~

“I swear,” Damian chimed. “If _you_ got to see _my_ father before I did, Jon, then-”

“I didn’t!” Jon whined from Cass’s lap. “I didn’t even go, okay!”

“Good. Because, honestly, as the oldest _technical_ stepson to Bruce Wayne,” Conner droned, appearing on screen by hooking his chin on Damian’s head. “I think I should get to meet him first. Vet him and stuff.”

“Clark _literally_ just did that, Kon.” Dick cackled from his own window on the screen. “I think we can trust his judgment.”

“I appreciate that, Dick, thank you.” Clark laughed from the sofa.

“So. What do you think he’s like?” Tim asked quietly from next to Conner. “I mean, okay. Clark _saw_ him, but I mean.” He paused, frowned. “Think he’ll be like he was before?”

“I hope not.” Jason drawled. “He was boring, even for _Batman_ , and _grumpy_. Maybe the years took the edge off.”

“Somehow, Little Wing, I kind of doubt it.” Dick supplied. He suddenly leaned over, and ruffled Jason’s hair. “But we’re gonna love him anyway, right?”

“ _Goddammit_ , Dick!” Jason pouted, and the three in Smallville, not to mention the two sitting on the floor in front of Clark and Lois, howled in laughter.

“Jason!” Lois scolded through her own chuckle. The children paid her no mind, though, falling immediately back into their conversation about Bruce. She sighed, and rolled her eyes, turning to Clark. “Clark you should-” She stopped, and dropped her voice. “Are you _videoing_ them?”

Clark glanced up at her from the phone he was holding nonchalantly against his hip. “…Maybe.”

She stared sternly up at him.

“What?” He shrugged. “I said I’d keep him in the loop.”

Lois immediately huffed, leaning into his side as he tapped the button to stop recording. “He’ll appreciate it, I’m sure.”

Quietly, under another joke from Dick, Clark typed out a new text message.

 _They’re excited to see you_ , he wrote. _We’re still picking where, but we’re hoping this weekend._

He then attached the short video, and sent it off, looking back down at Lois once more. “You think?”

She glanced exasperatedly up through her lashes at him, just as a response came back.

_Can’t wait._

“Oh…” Lois hummed. “I _know_.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Other Brood AU things.](http://fishfingersandjellybabies.tumblr.com/tagged/brood-au)   
> 


End file.
